


for you

by cerqlean



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cabins, Did I mention angst, F/M, Marriage, Non-Graphic Smut, but not THAT scene, camping trip!, cheating kinda, for his name, it is not solved, jumin is ur bff, lol, lotta angst, man i love 707, not the reset theory, read it it'll make sense, spoilers i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerqlean/pseuds/cerqlean
Summary: Gently you set the picture frame facedown, and turn, hands gripping at his shoulders. “Why?” You ask—for leaving her or missing me? —but you know the answer.“For you,” he whispers, and you feel like you are soaring, like the sun lives inside of you.When he kisses you, you feel as if your heart has exploded.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i tried super hard to write in a different writing style?? lol i wanted it to be like..... soft/pretty? elegant?? if u know what i mean. i wanted to write like... super detailed smut but it wouldn't have fit into this piece so i didn't haha

When Saeyoung got married, it wasn’t to you. It was to  _her_. But dear God, you didn’t blame him— _she_  was everything you weren’t.  _She_  was so kind, so beautiful, and  _her_ heart was the purest you’d ever seen, and for that, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate  _her_.    

When Saeyoung had his first child, a sweet, rosy-cheeked baby boy with hair as red and wild as his father’s, it wasn’t with you. It was with  _her_. However, you felt nothing but fatigue, and the dull ache of heartbreak in your chest.  

When Saeyoung suggested the RFA go on a camping trip— _it’ll be fun!—_ you refused immediately. It’d been 4 years, 3 days, 20 minutes, 47-48-49 seconds since you’d seen him last; you avoid him at parties, you avoid him outside of work. The mere thought of him makes you smile, watery, and the constant ache in your chest seems to bloom, hit you harder than before. 

Jumin convinces you, when he comes to visit. His tone shows no emotion, his eyes show everything. 

 

He knows.  

 

You cry that day into the soft, cashmere sleeves of his Burberry suit.   

  
 

* * *

 

 

You drive to meet the other members in a rest area near the border of Georgia. The first glance of Saeyoung, tired eyes and tousled hair from driving so long, steals your breath away. He gives you a crooked smile—god, you missed it, your toes tingle—when he meets your eye, and you look away.  

   
 

He knows too. 

   
 

You make do talking to Jaehee and Zen and Yoosung even though you saw the latter two both last week.  

Your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are wet by the time you hit the highway. 

   
 

* * *

 

 

At the campsite, you are greeted with a log cabin, big and rustic. It has a heated pool in the back, and large windows overlooking the dense wood. Each person is assigned a roommate; you and Jaehee, Seven and Yoosung, and Zen declares he would rather sleep on the sofa than with Jumin Han. 

The first night is okay. It’s good. You didn’t see him today, instead opting to go straight to your room and unpack slowly. You eat dinner inside your room, stating you have emails to respond to as an excuse. Truth is, you responded to all of them last night. 

When Jaehee settles into the space next to you, her soft breathing and the crickets outside the only sounds you hear, you can’t help but contemplate the what-ifs and the could’ve-beens.   

Your pillow is wet when you wake up, and Jaehee is gone. 

   
 

* * *

 

You join the members outside, and the activity today, said Jumin (in disgust?), is hiking. He looks… good, in a casual, army-green sweater and black Nike joggers. You compliment him, and he asks you if you expected anything else from him.   

As you hike, the only thing you can think about is Saeyoung. He’s right behind you, talking to Yoosung about LOLOL and your head fills with images of you holding his hand, of him pinning you to his bed. 

You refuse to look at him and keep walking, eyebrows furrowed.  

   
 

* * *

   
Did you take a wrong turn? You recognize this rock, but you can’t spot any of the RFA members. However, you’re very close to the cabin, so you decide you’ll sit here for two minutes and head into the warm log house. You hum a little tune as you watch the woods for anything interesting.  

   
  “MC?” 

   
The voice makes you freeze, fingers clutching at the rock.  

  "What’re you doing here?” 

Slowly, you turn around, drawing your legs up. Saeyoung is walking towards you. “I could ask you the same thing,” you answer steadily.  

He grins, “I got bored of listening to Jumin and Zen argue, so I decided to come back.” He winks, “There’s a hot tub in the back.”    
 

You swallow, face heating up.  _Don’t_ think about that. “I, uh, was about to head inside.” 

Saeyoung sits down next to you, and you’re hyperaware of the proximity of closeness he’s at. You both sit in silence for a minute before he straightens, perking up.  

   
“Want to see my son? I don’t think you’ve seen him since he was born. He’s really growing up; he’s in Little League Baseball and I couldn’t be prouder…” He rambles excitedly, already scrolling through various pictures on his phone before you can get a word in. The pictures make your heart swell. He’s so beautiful, and he looks just like him, and you hear a “thank you”— shit, did you say that out loud? You look at the pictures, your mood now lifted.  

“…pregnant again. It’s a girl.” 

You look up, startled. “What?” 

Saeyoung looks… upset? “She’s pregnant again. It’s a—“ 

You are gone, inside the cabin, before he can say anything. 

   
 

* * *

Vaguely, you hear Saeyoung calling out to you, footsteps heavy behind you. You turn into the first room you see, and lock it. Fuck, it’s his. There are Honey Buddha Chip wrappers strewn everywhere, and Ph. Pepper cans clustered together on the bedside table. You kick the wrappers out of the way, sighing heavily as you make your way to the window, You  _knew_ this was a bad idea, god, why did you even agree to this in the first place? You decided you’d stay in here, as, if you left now, Saeyoung might be there.  

   
There was a click, and the door swung open and hit the wall with a soft  _thud_. You don’t turn around. You hear it closing again, and muffled footsteps as he walks a few paces.  

   
  “MC?” 

   
God, the way he says your name made your heart flutter in your chest. You say nothing. 

   
  “You okay?” 

You turned, suddenly filled with an indescribable anger. “No,” you said softly, your voice threatening to spill over into an shout. “I am not.” You turn back to the window and glare at it, not looking at anything in particular. Your eyes are brimming, and you are angry at yourself now, for not being able to control your emotions. 

   
Catching sight of the picture frame delicately set on the window sill, you pick it up. A tear hits  _her_  face.  

You feel his hands wrap around you. They are big, calloused, and they grip your waist as he leans into your neck. You smell his cologne, your anger melts.  

 _This is inappropriate,_ you think.  _He’s married._  

You don’t stop him.

One of his hands reaches up, twists your hair, and pushes it to the side so that it spills over one shoulder. Every time he touches you, you feel electric.  

“I’m leaving her,” He whispers, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. The weight on your heart lifts, and it’s so selfish,  _so selfish_ , but he’s yours, he’s always been yours, you love him so much. He places a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, and you forget how to breathe. He places another one, just below it and whispers, “I miss you.” This must be straight out of a fairytale.  

Gently you set the picture frame facedown, and turn, hands gripping at his shoulders. “Why?” You ask— _for leaving her or missing me?_ —but you know the answer.  

“For you,” he whispers, and you feel like you are  _soaring_ , like the sun lives inside of you.  

When he kisses you, you feel as if your heart has exploded.  

Your hands clutch at him, smooth through his hair, as if he may disappear at any time. An anxiety settles over you—what if this is one of his pranks?—but he soothes it away, with kisses to your neck, and kisses down your belly.  

He starts slow, gentle, as if he was trying to memorize your body. It builds up; sloppy kisses pressed onto collarbones, against your mouth. But finally, when you feel the drag of his cock in you—god, your voice is hoarse from screaming his name—and when you hear your name falling from his lips like a prayer— _he is_ my _god_ , you think as you catch a glimpse of the cross on his neck—, not  _her_ name, you whine. His eyes are screwed shut, his head is thrown back, and his Adam’s apple is bobbing, and he is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.  

When he lays next to you, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, strong arms around you, you know he is yours.

 

* * *

 

When you jerk awake, sweat ridden and trembling, _fully clothed_ _,_  Jaehee quietly asleep beside you, your chest burns. 

 


End file.
